


We have cried — and the gods are silent

by sevendeadlyfun



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevendeadlyfun/pseuds/sevendeadlyfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Most human beings only think they want freedom. In truth they yearn for the bondage of social order, rigid laws, materialism. The freedom of women can only come when they have learned to become uncomfortable – and when they are willing to share that discomfort with others. – Jane Tabitha Teller, The Life and Death of Dam Crow: How the Daughters of Anarchy Lost Their Way"</p>
            </blockquote>





	We have cried — and the gods are silent

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired solely by my desire to see what an all-woman MC would be like - title of the work taken from the poem "The Toast of Despair" by noted anarchist poet Voltairine de Cleyre.

_The first time I read Emma Goldman wasn’t in a book. I was sixteen, hiking near the Nevada border. The quote was painted on a wall in red. When I saw those words it was like someone ripped them from the inside of my head._

_“Anarchism... stands for liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from the dominion of property; liberation from shackles and restraint of government. It stands for social order based on the free grouping of individuals.”_

_The concept was pure, simple, true. It inspired me. Lit a rebellious fire, but ultimately I learned the lesson that Goldman, Proudhon, and the others learned. That true freedom requires sacrifice and pain. Most human beings only think they want freedom. In truth they yearn for the bondage of social order, rigid laws, materialism. The freedom of women can only come when they have learned to become uncomfortable – and when they are willing to share that discomfort with others. – Jane Tabitha Teller, The Life and Death of Dam Crow: How the Daughters of Anarchy Lost Their Way_

 

 

She doesn’t know what to do with those words. The club her mother founded still stands,  but she isn’t sure it has anything do with the freedom of women. Shit, half the damn clubs they do business with trade in flesh and more often than not that flesh is female. Is that how they’ve learned to become uncomfortable – within their own skins and among their own sisters?

She snorts. Those women aren’t her sisters. Her sisters ride and fight. They don’t serve with any part of their bodies. But she can’t help thinking that her mother felt different. That those words are a roadmap to a kind of freedom beyond riding and fighting – a freedom her mother felt the first time she read the words of another uncomfortable woman.

Jacks shakes her head. Too many damn beers and too long on the road, she thinks, her eyes cutting away from the words; the red, red words of Emma Goldman and the stark typed words of her mother.  Her eyes land on the words tattooed on her inner wrist: _I must not fear._

The lines are shaky and the ink faded in patches – homemade ink doesn’t last long. She can still remember look on her Dad’s face when he caught her, homemade gun clenched in her trembling, nerveless hands. He smirked, his eyebrow cocked, and helped her finish the job. When it was done, he cupped her chin and told her she was just like her Mom – one badass bitch.

 

She keeps trying to live up to those words – one badass bitch. But she can’t find that woman in any of the other words she reads, the words her mother put down before she died. So she keeps reading.

The words travel with her from that wall in Nevada back to Charming. Strong words. Powerful words. Mother’s words.

_I never made a conscious decision to have the club become one thing or another. It just happened before my eyes. Each savage event was a catalyst for the next. And by the time the violence reached epic proportion, I couldn't see where we’d been. The path had started with freedom – but everywhere, we were in chains.  – Jane Tabitha Teller, The Life and Death of Dam Crow: How the Daughters of Anarchy Lost Their Way_

“Jacks!” Claire’s voice is hoarse from too many years of whiskey and cigars. “Jacks, get your ass down here. Got a run.”

“Yeah, “ she answers. “Coming.”

She can’t meet Claire’s eyes. Too many voices in her head and those hooded eyes are sharp – a hawk’s eyes. For all that they wear the reaper, Claire is death in another form. Jacks thinks that’s why she and Dad get on so well. Stone’s the only thing that can live inside those talons.

“Running protection for Unser tonight, “ Claire says, cigar clamped between her teeth. “Want you to round up some riders – take at least four. Two in front, two in back – easy money, yeah?”

The question isn’t really a question. The warehouse fire’s put them out of business. Only way to get back in, keep the club up, is more money.

“I’ll take Juicy, Chibs, and Bee – that’ll keep it tight enough.”

Claire sighs heavily, shaking her head. “I thought Bee was on the outs on account of her man. Thought she was only legit these days?”

“Money’s tight, “Jacks says, not really answering the question. “She’s still a Daughter, right? Nothing less than legit going on tonight, just a protection run. Don can’t complain about that.”

“I haven’t seen anything that don’t set Don to complaining. “ Claire’s sunglasses slide down her nose. “You take her if you want. Leastways it’ll set Willow’s mind at ease – Don isn’t exactly what you’d call a provider and I know she’s had to send some thing over to make sure the kids are kept up – calls it grandma’s privilege.”

Jacks nods. “Willow takes care of family.”

“So do we.” The words are cold. “Stone tried to talk some sense in to that sonuvabitch, but he’s still fretting about her giving birth in handcuffs. All concerned about her and the baby, but won’t do nothing to earn and won’t let us help.”

“Well, if Dad didn’t make a dent, I don’t expect anything will.”

“Just…no mistakes, all right?” Claire’s gaze is steady.

“All right, “ Jacks replies, shaking her blonde hair out of her eyes. “It’s all good, sister.”

_Inside the club, there had to be truth. Our word was our bond and our bond kept us alive. Kept us free. But outside, in the world of men, it was all about deception. Lies were our defense, our default. To survive, the lie and the truth had to feel the same. But once you learned that, nobody knows the truth in or outside the club; especially you. Kith and kin became strangers and you were back where you started – a woman on her own, with only cunning and claws to fight back against the world. .  – Jane Tabitha Teller, The Life and Death of Dam Crow: How the Daughters of Anarchy Lost Their Way_

“You didn’t tell her.” The words are not a question.

“No. Like you said, her head’s not in it. That shit needs to stop, Bobbi.”

“And you think this’ll get her head back in the game?” Bobbi shakes her head, a medusa’s nest of red curl snapping with each shake. “Jesus, Claire.”

“It’s for the charter. “ Claire relights the cigar, sits back. “Always got to be about that.”

_When we left for Vietnam, we had no idea how accustomed we would become to the dead – dead boys of all color scattered like fall leaves across the green land. We said that we would leave the death of men behind and create life for ourselves and for our sisters - all our sisters. And with that choice comes daunting responsibility. Some women cave under that weight. Others abuse the momentum. The true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in her heart and the reason in her mind. Her solution is always an equal mix of might and right. – Jane Tabitha Teller, The Life and Death of Dam Crow: How the Daughters of Anarchy Lost Their Way_

 

 


End file.
